Page 140 of The Favourite

“What did you say?” Jane demanded, dragging the pillow from his hand.

“I said, I think it was when you danced for the Queen and won her favor.” His cheeks were suffused with color.

Jane stared at him. “You—really?” He nodded, not meeting her gaze. “I never really understood what I did so well that day,” she admitted honestly, “that I should have secured both your good opinion and the Queen’s. I suppose my stars must have been in alignment.”

He looked pained. “Jane, don’t,” he whispered. “I can’t stand it.”

“What? Why?” He wouldn’t answer, would only shake his head. Why did he look like that? Jane could not really make it out. When she opened her mouth to press him further, he promptly rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath him.

“Jane,” he said in quite a different voice. “Don’t you think I have waited long enough now, my sweet?”

“Waited for what?”

He blew his hair out of his face with an impatient puff of air. “Your declaration, Wife. I have been distressingly frank with you. I love you. I maneuvered the Queen to bring about our marriage—”

“What?” The word was a squawk.

“I plotted and schemed to make you mine, and I think the least you can do—”

“When did you plot? What scheme?”

“I started baring my soul to you on our wedding night—”

“You did?”

“—and I’ve scarcely stopped since,” he stated firmly. “It was all most strange as I do not usually have loose lips.”

“Did you?” Jane was doubtful.

“I told you about my brother, didn’t I? I had not spoken of him in … oh, it must be some fifteen years.”

Jane thought about this. “That’s a long time.”

“Yes,” he agreed, rolling off her and onto his back. He heaved a great sigh. “I think it was because I wanted you to know my measure, the real me, I mean. To know me and still to find me worthy I suppose.” He seemed to wince at his own choice of words.

Jane crowded in close to his side. “Worthy?” she repeated.

“Of your love.”

She felt winded again. “Alisander …” Her arm crept around his waist.

“You see,” he said covering his eyes with his forearm, “I never really believed that anyone could ever love me. Not … the real me. Not that I ever wanted anyone to, except you. But I badly wanted you to … so, I was sort of testing the waters.”

“You mean,” Jane said carefully, pulling down his arm so she could see his face, “the ‘you’ that was the curse of the Herveys? The ‘you’ that reclaimed your family ring?”

Without meeting her eyes, he caught her hand and turned it over to contemplate the simple gold signet ring, his thumb tracing the snake insignia carved there. “Yes, precisely,” he muttered. “For some reason, I wanted you to know him, almost from the first. Even though I knew I should keep him in the shadows where he belongs.”

Jane tipped her head considering. “I did not actually realize that your steward John was Robert’s son until just recently,” she admitted. “But I suppose you did lay a breadcrumb trail for me to follow. “

“Yes. I wanted you to know me Jane and want me anyway.” He blew out a breath. “I collect you have heard about your uncle—”

But Jane did not want to talk about her uncle. “I still don’t really understand why,” she admitted sounding mystified.

“I did it to protect you and Celestia, and what’s more I would do it again.”

“No, not that,” she said hurriedly. “I understand why you did that.”

A frown creased his brow. “Then, what are you asking me exactly?”